You May Forget
by lovesrainscent
Summary: Set shortly after the time when Anko recovered the rest of her memories.  She is angsty and vulnerable and seeking validation from an established authority figure.


**Title: You May Forget**

**Author: **Lovesrainscent

**Pairing:** Jiraiya/Anko

**Rating: M (an angsty M by the way)**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these Naruto characters and stand to make no profit from posting this story.

**Summary:** Set about the time period just after Anko recovered her memories - she might be angsty and vulnerable, and seeking comfort and validation from some established authority-figures in Konoha.

_You may forget but let me tell you this:_  
_someone in some future time will think of us_

_~ Sappho_

**You May Forget**

The man and the woman sat at a smoky bar, sharing a drink and each others' company, looking for all the world like two old friends despite their age difference. A passing fair band played in the corner and a few scattered couples were on the dance floor. The place wasn't a dive so much as out of the way. To be there, you had to make the effort to get there, and since there wasn't really much to recommend it except for the fact that it was out of the way, it was the perfect place for their conversation.

"ANBU was all over me when I came back with my memories recovered. Almost as bad as the first time. And even though I can remember everything now, I can't tell them what they seem to want to know," Anko said, her head down, studying her drink as if it might reveal some additional secret to her beyond her own recently recovered memories.

"What's that?" her white-haired companion asked her.

"Oh, you know, plans, details, potential secret hiding places, potential allies. As if any of that would even still be the same after ten years, after what happened with Sarutobi," here her voice faltered. "I'm sure everything must have changed for him after he lost the use of his arms."

Jiraiya grinned at her, "What do you remember?"

Anko picked her drink up off the bar and swirled it around, hearing the ice cubes clink together. She looked up at Jiraiya over the top of the glass and finally relaxed, grinning herself. "I remember that he taught me how to fish."

Jiraiya laughed then and knocked back his own drink, draining it and setting the glass down loudly on the bar, drawing the attention of the bartender. He motioned for another round for the two of them.

Shaking his head, mane of white hair rustling over his shoulders he smiled back at her. "I'm sure that's the kind of detail that ANBU is _not_ interested in. So, how did it go?"

"How do you think it went?" She picked up her fresh drink and took a sip. "He hated to fish. But when he found out I couldn't catch one with my hands, with a hook, a spear, or any marginally creative adaptation of a jutsu, well, he was royally pissed. 'No genin of _mine_ is going to starve' I can still hear him muttering. And I can, by God, now catch a fish."

The laughter this time was shared between the two of them. Jiraiya looked at her and it was such a relief to her to see the mirth in his eyes as well, to know that the laughter in his voice wasn't false and hollow. He was_ enjoying _this with her.

"What else?" he asked.

"Let's see. He found out I was deathly afraid of thunderstorms."

"So what did he do?"

"He made me spend the night out in one of the worst thunderstorms I had ever seen in my life, just barely covered by a rock overhang on the side of a cliff. I thought the wind alone would blow me off of it. I was soaked to the bone..."

"Sounds cruel," Jiraiya said with a smirk.

"And he was soaked, too." Anko finished. "He stayed with me. I think he only did it to make sure I stayed put, but he did stay."

"What a monster," The sarcasm in the sannin's voice was unmistakable as he took a drink from his own glass and watched her.

"Well, yeah, that's just it," Anko said as she shifted uncomfortably on the bar stool. "I-I-I need to know. These are the rest of the memories I've recovered and...are they real? I... for years now I've thought... I know he was a monster,_ is _a monster now... but is what I'm remembering real? Was he always the way he is now or is some of this...real?

"Oh, I can assure you, Orochimaru was always a conceited, self-absorbed prick," Jiraiya chuckled, "but a monster? No, he wasn't always like that. He was a good shinobi, great, actually, and because of that he expected a lot out of others, maybe too much. He was a good friend once. And a good sensei, wasn't he?"

"I...," much as she wanted to deny it, she could no longer do so. "Yeah. He was." The smile that flickered at the corners of her mouth was faint and wan, the look in her eyes very far away. "I can't believe I just said that, but yes, he was."

Anko looked up at him, her thoughts having returned from wherever they had wandered. "Thank you, Jiraiya," she said softly. "It's been hard with ANBU crawling around inside my head. It's like they're trying to find something else. And people's prurient interests being what they are, everyone assumes that...that he must have...done things to me. Like they're looking for one more reason to call him a monster."

Jiraiya noticed the bartender standing a little too close as if he were trying to overhear their conversation. A scowl and a jerk of his chin toward their empty glasses sent the man scurrying to refill them and retreat to the far end of the bar.

Anko continued, "Sometimes I'm not sure it has anything to do with the security of Konoha at all. They're just looking for something that satisfies they're own baser curiosity. They just want to hear something...lewd."

"Sex sells," he shrugged.

"Yes, that's well and good with fiction. But this is real, this is my life. And what they want to hear...didn't happen. But I've wound up with this reputation that precedes me - I'm either "poor little abused Anko" or else some wild woman just because I was Orochimaru's student. And neither of those...fit." She shrugged herself now, uncomfortably aware that her brief moment of mirth and relaxation with Jiraiya was quickly slipping into something maudlin. "And now I'm still going to try to kill him? Even now when I remember who he used to be?" her questions were whispered, Jiraiya had to strain to hear them.

"We have to. He threatens the entire village. But didn't you already try to kill him when you saw him again?"

"Yes. I did then. But now, I don't _hate_ him anymore."

He covered his hand with her own. "Anko, if a dog you've loved and trusted becomes rabid and a danger to you and your family, you kill it. You don't hate it because it's sick. But you _do_ kill it." Looking at her eyes he realized they were overbright, holding back tears, afraid to blink or else she'd let them fall. "Come on, let's get out of here. Too much sake is making you melancholy. I can't have my dates ending with the girl crying, it will ruin my reputation. Let's go get some tea and dango." He stood and tossed some bills on the bar to cover their tab.

Anko sniffled and twitched a faint smile at him. "Hey, who said this was a _date_, you old pervert? And how _do_ your dates end anyway?"

"Ah, _now _whose interests are prurient?" he shot back at her taking her hand and leading her to the door.

The pair walked out into the late autumn night. The air was absolutely clear, the stars sharp as they glittered in the blackness above. They headed back to the center of town and Anko's favorite dango shop. This time the conversation remained light, each one sharing their own 'embarassing moments with Orochimaru' stories.

By the time they left, the moon rode higher in the sky and the temperature had fallen to a crisp not-quite-cold level. Leaves skittered ahead of them, dead and brown, crunching underneath their feet. Breath of conversation and laughter condensed in little wisps as it left their lips. They walked closer to one another than they had on their way to the dango shop. At some point he draped his arm across her shoulders and she slipped her own around his waist.

When they reached her flat, Anko took both his large hands in her own. "Stay," she whispered.

Leaning down to kiss her, white hair curtaining around them he told her honestly, "I'm not the kind of guy who stays around for very long."

"Just for tonight. Just stay with me for tonight. I..." she cinched her hands behind his neck, lacing her fingers together in his hair, voice warm in his ear,"I don't need to be pitied and I'm tired of acting like a wild woman I'm not. Stay with me and let me be just a girl for tonight."

Jiraiya slid his hands to her hips, holding her against him, "You're a beautiful girl," he murmured against her, "You always were such a beautiful girl."

They kissed, long and lingering, on the street in front of her building. Anko savored the warmth between their two bodies as they held each other close, the frosty night air kissing her cheek contrasting with the warmth of his lips against hers.

Turning, she led him up the few steps to her flat and unlocked the door, allowing them both in. Kicking off her shoes unceremoniously as soon as she entered, she motioned for him to do the same, Jiraiya leaving his wooden geta mixed with her pile of assorted footwear at the doorway.

She took his hand and tried to lead him to her bedroom, but Jiraiya didn't move, pulling her back to him instead, smiling down at her. "You wanted to be just a girl, remember? That means I take the lead."

He folded her in his arms, claiming her lips with his own again, tongue tracing gingerly along them as she parted them for him. Anko closed her eyes and tilted her head letting him kiss her deeply, tasting him in her mouth.

Hands at her shoulders, he brushed her coat off them, down her arms to let it puddle in the floor with the shoes. Back at her waist, he slid his hands up her body. Sighing softly, Anko reached up and slid his own red vest off him, pouting when his hands left her for just the fraction of a second it took for him to lose the vest.

Bodies melted against each other, he held her tight. Rough palm of his hand skimmed along the satin of her thigh, brushing just up under her miniskirt. Anko turned in his embrace, trying to coax his hand up higher as Jiraiya's fingers feathered up her leg.

"God, please take me to bed," Anko mumbled against his chest.

"Which way?"

"First door on the right," Anko muttered, stretching against him, wrapping one leg around him.

Jiraiya lifted her against him and she wrapped her second leg around him and he carried her to her room. Pausing in front of her bed, he let her slip down, sliding along his front he could feel the heat from her body against his. He kissed her hungrily and it thrilled Anko to feel his want of her, nothing soft about his kiss at all this time.

She tugged at his obi in frustration and he just chuckled again as he deftly undid his own knot. "I know how to undress me, Anko."

"Yeah, well, you're not doing it fast enough," she grumbled, pushing his open shirt off his shoulders and beginning to tug at his fishnet undershirt.

He complied with her wishes and jerked his own shirt up and off. Anko skimmed her own palms across his scarred chest.

"Now let's undress you," his voice rumbled against her, tugging her own shirt up and off. Embracing her again, she was warmed by his body, their skin touching.

"Such a beautiful girl," Jiraiya said softly again, cupping her cheek and kissing her mouth, her chin, trailing his tongue along the column of her throat, he kissed to one shoulder. He repeated the motions on the other side, where her curse mark was and Anko tensed as he neared it. Sable lips brushed there, the same as the other side and continued on to that shoulder. Not avoiding. Not lingering. Simply kissing the curse mark the same as the rest of her skin.

Anko relaxed. All of her. He was going to love all of her.

Later, in the darkness as she lay on her side, her back to him. Jiraiya kissed the curve of her shoulder, resting one hand on her hip.

"We were lovers, you know," she said looking out the window at the glow cast by the streetlamp below. "There at the end...just before he left..."

She didn't know what she expected - shock, recoil, some startled exclamation from him. Instead he didn't answer at all, just let his hand slide from her hip to her waist, holding her loosely, his chin resting above her head, looking out the window with her.

"He wasn't a ...pedophile, though. I mean, I was a teenager and I was...I thought I was all grown up. Hell, I'd been practically throwing myself at him the whole previous year...I guess he finally gave in when I...when I wasn't a kid anymore."

She hesitated in the darkness, hearing his even breathing behind her, wondering what he thought of her, of her revelation.

"I'm sure you weren't the first teenage girl to throw herself at her sensei. And I'm sure Orochimaru wasn't the last sensei who'll ever give in to that temptation," Jiraiya's voice was warm and deep and surprisingly conversational, not shocked or disgusted.

"I really did love him, you know. The man that he was."

Jiraiya kissed her shoulder again. "So did I."

She turned to face him, warmth of their bodies, skin to skin touching in her bed. "Do you think he gave in...to see if he was still human?" she asked.

Jiraiya was propped up on one arm, looking past her at the dim glow from outside now as well. "I don't know," he answered honestly.

Looking down into her chocolate eyes, he kissed her softly, hand warm at the dip of her waist. "Do you have any sake?"

"Yes, in the kitchen. Why?"

He kissed her again and got out of the bed. "I'll be right back."

Anko sat up, pulling the sheet up over her, he'd only been gone a moment and his side of the bed was already cooling in the chill air of the room.

Jiraiya returned with two small cups.

"What's this for?" she asked accepting the cup he offered.

The sannin nodded toward her bedside clock as he slipped back under the sheets beside her. "It's after midnight. We should make a toast."

Anko froze, then nodded realizing that he'd known all along why she needed him so much tonight. The thought flickered through her mind that perhaps he had needed her just as much.

They raised their cups in salute. "Happy Birthday Orochimaru," Jiraiya said.

"Happy Birthday Orochimaru," Anko whispered in echo.

The End


End file.
